Stories Never Told
by Naty17
Summary: Ideas come often to people; some are used, others are never fully developed... A collection of ideas and concepts that didn't manage to become stories on their own. Case #1 - LiAR: 'People often forget or ignore that lying is a sin. On that day, Sensei decided to teach us a lesson we'd never forget... If we even managed to survive it.'
1. Case I - LiAR

**Stories Never Told**

**November 2nd 2014; 10:23 PM**

_This isn't really a new story._

_... Way to start off with a disappointment, right? XD Sorry.  
Anyway, I thought about making one of these a while ago but only become serious about it a few days ago. This is a collection of short stories - or rather, small segments of what could possibly become long stories. It's basically a 'trial and error' kind of strategy. I present you a short(ish) segment with the main themes and ideas of the idealized 'long version' and you guys tell me what you think._

_If a certain oneshot here were to get absolutely outstanding results and is full of overwhelming potential, I might even consider developing it into a full-length story. (This is however unlikely, seeing as I've already got four on-going stories.)_

_Knowing me, of course, many of these stories will have extremely dark themes - especially this very first example. Some of you may find these disturbing. If so, please move along, I don't want to force you to read something you don't like. However, if you do feel you are unable to read it - whether it be because of genre, length, quality, anything at all - please, PLEASE let me know by review. Or PM, if you hate it too much to review it. It would be a great help._

_This fic won't be regularly updated (although what fic of mine is? ^^"). I will randomly post these short stories whenever an idea becomes too tempting to ignore. It's what I like to call... 'playing it safe'. Always use protection. Do as I say, not as I do. ...Wait, what?_

_Anyway, not every one of these stories will be dark and depressing and give you chills like nails on a chalkboard. Some of these stories may even turn out to be... 'happy'. e_O (Ew, happiness.) I ask you to read this with an open mind, if you please. ^^_

**Title: **LiAR  
**Characters: **N/A  
**Genre:** Angst/Psychological Horror/Survival Horror  
**Rating: **M (No, this is not a lemon.)  
**Subject:** You're about to find out... ;)

* * *

**Case #1 - LiAR**

* * *

How does it feel to be puppeted beyond your control?

To be played with like dolls, following script until you drop dead?

I used to live like any other person. I used to play around freely, smile, laugh, enjoy life with the people around me. Happy, my friends and I...

Now they're dead. Or maybe I'm dead. Nothing makes much sense in this world.

All I know for sure is that, only two hours ago, we sat here in class, impatiently counting down the seconds... until our supply teacher suddenly smiled at us. "You're all staying after school today."

Why? we asked. After all, we'd been good students. None of us had done anything wrong. Tohoku-sensei laughed at us. "Because I said so!" She suddenly sounded much younger, much more childish. The way she looked at us all... Those in the back who couldn't see whispered about how bitchy our supply teacher had become. We in the front could only stare back in horror as the sweet young woman we'd had all day faded into... I don't know. A psychopath, I suppose. That seemed like the only logical thing to call her. And yet, what part of this was logical?

Not so long ago, Miki sat in the seat to my right. Now, she lays staring at me from the ground, unmoving, unblinking, clutching a piece of paper tightly in her hand. She isn't breathing, but is she dead? We don't know. We don't know anything.

"Who's next, hmmm? Yu-san?" The girl goes rigid, her eyes revealing more white than blue. Her name is Cynthia, but it's difficult to pronounce- everyone instead calls her by her initials, C. Yu. She's sweet and hard-working... It would be a shame if she died. "You're so quiet. Hm, you seem so innocent, it's hard to imagine someone like you would actually have a secret..." Tohoku Zunko looks to be in her mid-twenties. She acted like it too, until the final bell rang. Then it was as though she'd been possessed... "Do you have a secret, Yu-san?"

"Seriously? That's all C. Yu has to answer?!"

Sensei shoots the student a look. "One more outburst and I'll make sure you'll regret it." As I watch him grumble, I get the feeling he won't take that warning to heart. Everyone here is so stupid... It's almost as scary as our situation.

C. Yu's eyes begin to well up with tears and we all sit still, pitiful but helpless. Sensei seems pleased. "I'll take that as a yes! Well then, Yu-san, tell us... Why did you move here?"

She's a new student this year, having transferred from Korea. She said it was because her father received a promotion. If that's the case, then why is she suddenly hesitating?

"You remember the rules, don't you?" Tohoku-sensei teases. "You know what happens when you lie, right?"

Her gaze flickers to Miki's sprawled body and she begins to cry.

"Liars are terrible, aren't they? Let's hope your mommy taught you your lessons..." And she laughs. She's amused, excited... I stare at her and feel sick to my stomach. What happened to the kind woman who helped solve my math problem earlier? Why won't the classroom door open? When did the air get so tense? What... What's going on?

"I-I..."

"You're taking too long," Sensei says with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm giving you ten seconds... Or else you die."

She can't talk. She's sitting there with this expression on her face- I think she's stopped breathing -She'd lost it already! Someone, get her to talk, someone-

"Five, four, three, tw-"

"THE POLICE!" she suddenly yells, tears streaming down her face. "IT'S ONLY BECAUSE, BECAU-"

"One."

"WE HAD T-" The yelling suddenly stops like something's clogged her vocal chords. And then we all watch as she slumps in her chair and stops moving.

She's dead.

"What she meant to say," Tohoku-sensei says sweetly, "was that she had to escape the police back in Korea. See, Daddy got into some trouble, some really bad trouble... I believe it's called 'human trafficking'?" She smiles and lets it sync in. "Well? Who's next?"

Our class is praised for being very cooperative. Our participation in class is exemplary.

I think this is the first time nobody has raised their hand.

She paces back and forth before the class humming a childish tune, watching us from the corner of her eye. "You all want to get out, right?"

Nobody answers. A few nod.

"But aren't you having fun?"

Silence.

"That's too bad... I've always enjoyed playing with my dollies!"

She suddenly stops pacing and slowly turns to face someone in the front row. "Piko-kun," she says.

I gulp.

"You're a smart boy, aren't you?" she asks, reaching over to pet silvery hair.

I feel goose bumps raising on my skin. I've begun to sweat. My heart is beating twice as fast... and yet, I'm helpless.

"Say... Because you're so smart, I'll make you a deal. Before I ask you anything at all, you get to ask me a question, anything at all! Does that sound nice? After all, you are one of the good boys, right? Good boys nowadays are so hard to find... Wouldn't you agree? Everyone is so spoiled, spoiled rotten. It's because their parents have abandoned proper discipline- don't you think?" Her voice lowers to a whisper. "It's a good thing I'm here to offer proper punishment, right?" Oddly enough, her smile is reflected. It pleases her. "I knew you'd agree. Have you decided on your question?"

There are a lot of things someone can ask in such a situation. 'Who are you?' She'd probably lie. 'Why are you doing this?' It's not important. 'How do we get out?' Would that make her angry?

"What can I do to save myself?"

The words seem to have come out on their own. Everyone stares. Fists clench, lips tremble, rages ignite.

But in the end, I think everyone wishes they could ask that same question.

"Ha! Haha! You're a riot, darling!" She continues to stroke at silver, seeming suddenly very affectionate. "Alright. I'll make you a special deal, then. You can save yourself for this round... Or you can die. Are you ready, honey?"

"... Y-Yeah."

"Sheesh," Yukari mumbles behind me. "What an asshole. He's always so quiet too..."

"It's always the quiet ones," Dell mumbles.

Tohoku-sensei stops smiling. "Who said that?"

Dell's eyes go wide as he realizes his screw-up. He doesn't declare himself. It doesn't matter; everyone is staring at him until he finally owns up and stands. I admire his bravery- I thought he would have hid or tried to pass the blame.

"Choose someone."

Choose someone?

He looks extremely hesitant - after all, every decision has a consequence here. Minutes seem to pass. Finally, he makes his choice. "Hibiki Lui."

The boy perks at the sound of his name. I know him; he's rather small for his age and often teased for his girlish looks. His big eyes flicker back and forth from Dell to Sensei, questioning, but not all too worried. He seems filled with some kind of innocence, like he doesn't quite understand what's going on. It's Rin that reacts in his place. "Dell, you ASSHOLE!" Rin... My best friend's sister. I wonder how long it will take _her_ to die. ...Not much longer, I'll bet.

"What was I supposed to do?!" Dell exclaims. "I had to pick somebody!"

"You could have just picked yourself!"

"Are you stupid?! I don't want to die!"

... How selfish.

"What's going on?!" Lui asks. He still doesn't get it. Dell was smart to pick him- he's so stupid, he won't last very long anyway. Or maybe it would have been best to pick someone smart... Although we don't even know for sure what Tohoku-sensei is planning...

"Piko-kun - you're listening, right? - I want you to take a good look at Hibiki-kun. He's pretty, right?" Despite himself, the boy blushes. "He's young- he has a good long future ahead of him."  
She sits herself on the desk, something teachers are supposed never to do. "So... you want to save yourself, right?" She continues even though there isn't an answer. She doesn't even offer reconsideration. I guess she's decided to skip that.  
"Hey... Utatane-kun? Piko darling-chan? I've always believed in a certain saying... 'An eye for an eye.' You've heard it, right? 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a heart for a heart, a little thingie for maybe a slightly bigger one..." She giggles at her own dirty joke. "In conclusion, a life for a life. That reminds me of something... Perhaps my saying that is, hm, 'hitsuzen'?" She sighs. "A shame... he's awfully pretty."

"Wait..." Rin stares. Perhaps she's smarter than I thought.

"You understand, don't you?" Tohoku-sensei says cheerfully. "Yes... 'An eye for an eye'. Piko-kun, if you want to save yourself... You understand, right?"

This isn't right. This isn't right.

"Oh, you're standing! So you're going to do it?"

This isn't right. This isn't ri- I have to. I have to do it.

"Utatane-kun, I- Wh- Wha-?! G-Get away! I WON'T LET YOU TOUCH HIM!"

And yet only she reacts. Only she tries to stop me. The rest sit there, unmoving, unblinking, stupefied, stupid. This is what humanity _really_ looks like: Selfish individuals that can't be bothered to wrong rights because they fear hurt to their own precious bodies.

Because of them, there'll be one less body to fear about.

"Hey, Piko-kun!" Len's hand is on my shoulder. "You're only joking, right?" He tries to pull me back. I smack his hand off.

I deserve to live - not these pathetic stupid kids that can't even think for themselves. In fact, I might be doing them a favor...

Hands tug and pull on me. His throat is soft and I realize how easy it would be to slice right through it. It's too easy to kill a human being... far too easy.

"Don't hate me," I hear myself whisper. "'A life for a life'..."

He claws at my hands, staring at me with a terrified face. His face is changing colour. How... cute.

"I'LL KILL YOU, PIKO!" She's pounding on my back with her puny little fists, putting in an effort but not doing any good. Her friend dies here in my hands and she doesn't even have the courage to try the same on me, to use violence to save someone she loves.  
I guess she must not have loved him _that_ much.

"Glghh-" The gurgling sounds he makes as he struggles for even the slightest breath- Tohoku cackling away in the background- Rin's screaming, Len's panicked blubbering- I can't hear it. I can't think of anything but this life in my hands, this body losing strength because of me, his clock ticking away faster and faster-

And then suddenly there's an exploding pain in my shoulder. "What th-" Again! Fucking hell, what is thi-"

"I told you-" Rin says, plunging once more into my side. "I- Said- I'd- Kill you!" It's a... a pocket knife... Not enough to kill me, but enough to make me let go. Someone pulls Hibiki-kun away from me. Len desperately tries to do the same to his sister.

It's funny how different she looks now. She snarls and scratches, her face distorted with rage, her clothes and skin now stained with my colour.  
... She looks good in red.

I'm weaker but I'll be fine. Tohoku-sensei promised to save me.

She looks so thrilled by this development, grinning on her desktop perch. It only becomes brighter when Hibiki's death is announced.

I... I killed him. His death- I caused it. I killed him.

He's dead because of me.

Rin seems to be having a mental breakdown. Len has her on his lap, keeping her there by using a broken chair foot as a seatbelt. He doesn't look very calm himself, though. His expression is hollow, he looks broken, and when he catches my eye...  
I like the look on his face. It suits him.

My wounds gush, drips painting the floor in bright red. ...It's so much prettier than the plain white.

Am I insane?

"How do you feel?" Tohoku-sensei asks me.

The class goes quiet. Everyone stares at me. I can only gaze at my bloody hands. "I... I feel... dirty." It feels like my classmates are relieved. I can't quite comprehend why.

"Dirty?" She ponders this. "I guess I can relate. Still... there's another feeling too, isn't there?"

She's right, of course. Perhaps we have a few things in common- perhaps Tohoku Zunko also stood in my place, staring at her hands, feeling that same dirtiness. Perhaps she knows of that underlying exhilaration, the adrenaline that rushes through my veins, the smile that threatens appearance. "It feels good." She must have made me say those words. I wouldn't be so stupid... so honest. That's insanity.

"You... MONSTER!"

Is that what I am? And yet, I'm the only one who'll get out of here. I was the only one smart enough to make a deal.

I'm the only smart one amongst you idiots.

And then my head starts to ache - a loud twang resounding within my ears, a splitting pain in the back of my skull. Things go blurry before suddenly becoming black and I'm left wondering what could have happened.

"L-Len!"

He drops the metal chair leg to the ground. One end is now a different colour. ...It's suiting.

He covers his mouth with the back of his hand and sinks onto his knees. "I only meant to knock him out-!"

Sensei, surveying the scene, comments casually: "In the end, I guess he was the real idiot here." She smiles at the golden-haired boy, shell-shocked. His broken sister is the only one who comforts him- the rest stare with fright. He is not their saviour; simply another murderer. The second of many. "He thought he'd be let out... No, he'd only get to skip _this_ round. But he never bothered to ask." She pauses. "Do you want to know what his question would have been?"

"We don't care," Dell mumbles, shrunken in his seat. He's almost surprised to realize he speaks truly; after what they've seen, they no longer care about each other's secrets. They just want to get out, before they end up like Piko.

"If he'd said no," Sensei says anyway, "his question would have been this: 'At this current moment in time, are you happy?'"

"No one's happy," Rin says, more to herself than to anyone else.

"You're wrong. If he wanted to live, the only answer would have been 'yes'." There aren't any gasps this time. It seems the weight of the air has only become heavier. "He really hated you... all of you." Nobody comments. They stare at the twins, still crouched over a narcissistic corpse. By the looks of it, Len has also lost this round- at least, he's lost his mind.

Is this what we are fated to become?

"So... I guess that's two more points for me." She stands and smiles. "Who's next?"

* * *

_And to think... This is only Round One._

**November 2nd, 2014; 10:22 PM**

_Ah, so... it's still a little rough. The character undergoes some major morality changes rather quickly... O_O He starts off sounding as scared as the others, then suddenly becomes this desperate bargainer, then immediately changes to become more and more arrogant... This is because I didn't have all my ideas planned out when I began. ^^" I decided on the idea of 'In this classroom, lying will kill you' and rolled with it._

_I had no idea who my character even was at first. I just wanted him to be male. At first it was Len and the first victim was Rin, who would be asked about her feelings for her brother. She'd be too embarrassed to answer until Len told her it'd be best to spit it out and she'd admit her feelings. (He already knew anyway and rejected her. Asshole.) However, I wanted to show that lying would kill you, and since Rin would live in that scenario... Also, there's more._

_In this series, I want to try using characters that are not quite so often used. For example, the main character in this story is Piko. I'm not a huge fan of his voice bank (although when he's used well, my gosh, better bring an extra pair of panties XD), however, I do love the character I've built around him. ... Yes, this is because of his characterization in 'Lost and Found'. However, he's not used all that much in stories. I don't know if I'd use him as a MC in one of my stories either. And so I thought he deserved a spotlight if only in this subseries. ... Even though he is portrayed as a narcissistic sociopathic killer. ... Well, better than nothing, right?_

_Also, Tohoku Zunko. I feel like I've doomed her and that everyone will now hate her forever and it'll all be my fault. QwQ I beg, please don't hate Zunko- I actually really like her! I made her the teacher not because I think she's a complete sadistic bitch, but only because she matched my mental picture of the teacher - long, straight black hair, to be specific. The only Vocaloids with hair like that are Zunko, Mew, VY1 Mizki (depending on interpretation, of course), aaaaaand... Is that it? Huh.  
To be honest, the first thing I thought when I saw Zunko's design was: 'SHOTA-LOVER'. I don't even know why, but I'm absolutely convinced she's as bad as Pedo-Dell. ^^" I ship her with the poor, widely-hated Gachapoid, who never really got a fanon pairing for himself. Well, now he has it, Gachapoid x Zunko. XD Is this what they call a 'crack pairing'? But I swear, it looks good if you look at it my way! Because she's supposed to be this perfect straight-A high school student but she has this super terrible secret that can ruin her life and it's that she's actually a pedophile and Gachapoid just activates all of her moe moe senses and she just-  
_**Nothing**_. You heard nothing._

_As for the story itself, it is, as you may have guessed, largely inspired by a certain arc in the Bakuman manga. You figured, right? And so, I must kindly thank Tsugumi Ohba (as well as Takeshi Obata), for without your genius, this story likely wouldn't exist. Oh, and my thanks to Tohru Nanamine as well. XP  
There's also some Corpse Party atmosphere thrown in there for good measure... You'll be seeing that a lot more often. It is one of my favorite games now, somewhat of an idol itself. You'll often in the future notice that its stories and my own will share many tropes._

_As I probably mentioned before, this series will not regularly be updated- it's only here for me to test out various ideas and/or get rid of certain story concepts that never became multi-chap stories. This oneshot will not see any sequel unless I (by some miracle) decide to develop it into its own full-length story._

_Anyway, it's time I explain how I'd like you to rate these stories._

_**In the review section**__ (or by PM if you'd prefer), __**include a rating of this story from 0 to 10, 0 being such shit **__that you couldn't stand even to look at it, __**10 being so absolutely amazing **__that you'll be thinking about it for the rest of the night and all day tomorrow and there's no way it could get any better.  
Then, __**include a summary of how you felt reading it.**__ Examples can be as simple as 'I found it really surprising' or a complete deconstruction of life as we know it. __**Be sure to mention any parts you really liked or disliked.**_

_And that's it! I really can't wait to hear your thoughts! ^^_

_Also, _**I now have a forum on Fanfiction about writing. **_It is a forum containing tips on writing, especially within the Vocaloid fandom. We'll go in-depth about genres and figure out how to stay in character- not to mention avoiding Mary-Sue characteristics! Join me, it'll be fun! The forum is called... Uhhh... Footnotes of a Know-it-All, I think. Please, check it out!_

_~Naty17_

_(Hmm… What's next? Perhaps a oneshot based off of that Red story I was supposed to write long ago? ^^ Maybe that light-hearted story about a young writer? –Yes,Ididsaylight-hearted,it'sactuallypossibleformetowritethose- What about that story from a long time ago based off of Imitation Black? ^^ Feel free to suggest anything you'd like to see, I'll definitely consider it. Toodaloo~!)_

* * *

**Reviews are very appreciated.**

**Please see the end of the A/N above to fill out the survey... thing.**

**Thank you!**


	2. Case II - Talking At You

**Stories Never Told**

**Some Notes on the previous chapter…**

Seeing as this is more of a short story collection, I won't reply to every single anonymous review for this story: instead, I will go over a few things brought up in the reviews and answer them as I would have had you asked me personally. ^^ It's not quite the same, sorry, but for a simpler story, it's a simpler concept.

One or two of you pointed out that Zunko's hair is green, not black. …Well. Apparently so. In my defense, however, her official art has very dark-coloured hair. It appeared black. *cries a little inside*  
The major complaint was Piko's character. ^^" Ah, I'm very sorryyy! I was planning on more, but then I had to change my mind midway. See, if I'd gone the way I'd wanted to, I would have spoiled major MAJOR things. I couldn't do that. ^^" And so, Piko became strictly evil. I mean, I wanted an antagonistic hero, but it really didn't go the way I planned. I'm really sorry about that. *sigh*  
I've made up for the character development in this one. :) (If I can say so myself.)  
Also, yes, there are some HEAVY supernatural elements in LiAR. You weren't able to see them because you didn't get to see the backstory, but alas… Maybe someday. ^^ I'm heavily considering turning that one into a real story. How to start it though, that's the problem…

**November 28th, 2014; 11:10 AM**

_I began this a while ago. I had a really rough week and was inspired- after all, did I not say negative emotions make for the best stories? ^^_

_This is very loosely based off of the events that occurred during my rough week. Please note the use of the words 'very' and 'loosely'. I'm talking VERY loosely, like, looser than Piko. Ah... Forget I said that. ^^" This story was actually inspired by a single line I spoke, the line which became this story's title: 'Talking At You'. I couldn't help thinking about it again and again because it was such an interesting concept - you'll see in a second - and I was like, wow, I have to make this into something!_

_I don't want to spoil things so I'll stop here. (Weird... It's a short A/N.) I'll tell you now though, I like this story much more than the first one._

**Title: **Talking At You  
**Characters: **Miku, Luka  
**Genre:** Angst, Psychological Drama  
**Rating: **T  
**Subject:** You're about to find out... ;)

* * *

**Case #2 - Talking At You**

* * *

It's been a month since she's talked to me. Five weeks, actually. Thirty-three days... But who's counting?

I don't know why she stopped talking to me. I don't know what I did. But I miss her. I will do anything to get her back. I'll do anything to make her forgive me... even if she won't see me in person. I'll do anything to get her attention.

'It's snowing again this morning. It seems colder than it was yesterday.'

Even if she doesn't answer, I'll pretend she's there. After all, somewhere, she is. Somewhere, she has her phone in her pocket, hearing it vibrate and refusing to check. After all, she knows who it is.

'Mother's not doing very well. Her cancer spread to her lungs... they said she probably won't make it past next year. That'll be two now, huh? After all, Grandpa still hasn't woken up from his coma. They've brought it up with Grandma - pulling the plug, I mean - which isn't a good sign. I just hope she'll be alright. She feels kind of lonely, I think. She'll really be needing my support, and I'm not sure if I'll be strong enough to give her that.'

I don't care if she yells at me. Or hits me. Or even kills me.

'But at least I have you to support me in return. With you, I can do anything!'

I just want her attention.

When exactly did this start? It's been eight hundred and four hours since I messaged you. And you never answered.

I was worried and texted you everyday, wondering where you were. Because I was so worried, I also got a little mad. I thought maybe you'd gotten hurt or sick, and if you'd just forgotten your phone somewhere... I could have killed you. You had me worrying for nothing. 'I was on vacation,' you said. But then you disappeared again.

'It's been a while since you've actually answered, but that's alright. As long as you read these messages... and even if you don't, I feel better talking to you like this. Well, talking _at_ you, right? In a way, it's like talking to a wall... Without any answer, aren't you kind of like an inanimate object?  
... That was a joke.'

The next time you answered, it was to tell me your phone had died.

The time after that was only three days later, when you told me not to message you on Mondays or Wednesdays; that's when you have your drama club. That's right, of course I remember! So I'd always stay almost quiet on Mondays and Wednesdays. After all, I'm considerate! I am an understanding person.

... But why won't you talk to me on any other day?

Saturdays, you go visit your father and are unavailable. Tuesday, you forgot your phone again. Thursday that week, it ran out of battery. Friday did not have any excuses.

What am I supposed to do? I can't help but feel lonely! I'm going through some difficult times too, you know- why can't you spare me just five minutes?

I got angry one day. I got mad at you and called you mean things. What could I do? Your boyfriend told me you had your phone all along, so why couldn't you have answered me? Am I not important to you? Have these three years meant nothing at all?

"Why do I even matter so much?" you asked. "Don't you have other friends?"

Yes, of course. ...Well, yes. Um... I have many acquaintances. But it's not the same! You're so different, you know things about me I'd be too afraid to tell them! I am a daydreamer, but you keep me grounded. Without you, I'd just float, float away... until the pressure makes me pop.

You never apologized for making me feel this way. But that's alright; at least you finally talked to me. Maybe things would be normal again now.

... Hey... Are you there? I want to talk to you. Please answer...

Please?

...Well then.

If you won't talk to me, I guess I'll just talk to you.

Or, should I say... _At_ you?

The first time, it was a rant, a confession of my terrible feelings. I cried as I wrote about how much I missed you and that one thing I wanted from you, the only thing I wanted: Your attention. I want _you_, nothing more... I don't need your promises. I don't need your eternal love. I don't even need your smile. I want _you_, no matter how you present yourself. Even if you yell at me, even if you hate me, that would be enough...

You didn't answer me. You never answer me. But... it felt good to tell you how I felt. I kept thinking that maybe you'd read it, that maybe you were feeling just too guilty to answer me. That was a good feeling. Maybe you were finally realizing your wrongs. Soon, you'd check up on me, maybe. You'd apologize for what you'd done, because, well, you're my friend, right? So of course, knowing I'm hurting should hurt you too, right?

The next morning, I did again. I wasn't mean this time, though. Instead, I told you about how pretty the leaves looked. Isn't it strange how leaves become the prettiest short weeks before their deaths? Do you think humans might be the same way? Probably not, huh? Even the healthy aren't very pretty before they die... Weird.

The day after that, it was raining heavily. It was a cold rain, suitable for this time of year, but I didn't dislike it. In fact, it was kind of nice... even though it was cold. People tend to find this atmosphere depressing, and yet for some reason, it makes me feel so much more alive. The dramatic shadows, the wetness in the air, the harsh wind blowing onto your skin... It's kind of like waking up in a refreshing shower.

Hey... I kind of miss you. I found a song I know you'll like. Maybe you'll listen to it. Maybe you won't. It doesn't matter, does it?

Hey... When are you going to start talking to me? I know you're getting my messages. You don't read them, right? Well... I guess that's okay too. Just knowing you get them... It feels like enough.

Hey... I think I might be depressed. I'm not completely sure, but I do feel really lonely. I don't talk as much as I used to. I don't laugh as much. In fact, most of the time, I kind of feel like crying. It's made me realize just how much I depend on you. But... you don't care, right? Right... Well then, today again, I guess I'll talk at you.

Everyday, we'd follow this routine. Your phone probably buzzed thirty times each morning. I don't know how you were able to ignore it.

But, you know... talking at you feels really good too.

It's almost like it doesn't matter if someone answers me. As long as I'm heard, anyone can do. Isn't that extremely selfish? It makes me feel really sick sometimes, to the point where I'll actually throw up.  
Do you think I'm an ugly person? Is that why you don't like me anymore?

I can't blame you then. I really am a bad person, aren't I? I'm sorry... I really don't mean to be. I'm trying hard to change and become someone you can be proud of... Maybe then, you'll forgive me for being as terrible as I am. I really hope I didn't hurt your feeli-

**'My god, shut up already!'**

Hm? My phone buzzed?

**'I've already told you to leave me alone! If something actually happened to your mother like you say (although I doubt it), I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean you can blame it on me! The problems in your life aren't my fault!'**

...Ah. Luka answered.

**'You aren't my responsibility and honestly, it doesn't really matter to me what you do. Your spam is really annoying and I swear I will report you if you keep doing it!'**

... She answered.

**'Please leave me alone! I'm sorry, but I don't like you anymore. It's not fair, I get it, but I can't help it; a part of me kind of hates you. I hate the things you do to me.'**

The things I do to you?! What about the things you've done to me! Haven't I been suffering that much more?!

**'Also, stop stalking me. I'll call the cops.'**

Stalking you...? Ah, that's right. There you are waiting to cross the street. You know I'm here, but you refuse to look.  
I only wanted to make sure you were okay. You'd never ask me for help, so I have to make sure you're safe...!

Oh. You looked.

Is that a glare?

Why are you glaring at me...? Why are you glaring at me?! I should be the one glaring at you! After so much time spent together, you abandoned me like trash, you ignored me when I needed you, you acted so cold with me... Do our memories mean nothing to you?!

... Maybe not. Maybe they don't mean anything _to _you... But what about _at_ you?

'You're the one that needs to shut up. I wasn't talking to you.' Not _to_ you. _At_ you. Only that person ever listens. That person understands. That person loves me. And that person isn't _you_.

I think that, after all this time together, I've formed a deeper bond at you than I had with you. Luka, I don't think you're the one I love anymore. It's you, but it's not you... The person I love, they live inside this cellphone. I think I may be in love _at _you.

**'I mean it, I will block you!'**

She's finally talking to me, but it's too late to ask forgiveness.

'I won't let you get between us.'

There's only one person that listens to me... The only one who loves me lives inside this phone. And I love them too.

I've fallen in love with the silence you left me with.

'I appreciate your concerns, but I'm going to ask you to butt out now.'

Am I crazy? I watch you cross the street. You check your phone in the middle; isn't that dangerous? Who cares.

'I don't care what you think anymore. I hope you die.'

That car is a little too close for comfort... But it doesn't seem like it will hurt you. Good.

Without error, you make it to the other side of the street. I can finally let out the breath I've been holding. It's okay though... If you get hurt, I'm close behind; I'll save you. Even if you hate me.

'Watch your step. You tripped there last time.'

Even if you hate me...

**'You're insane.'**

Ha... That makes me happy. Even though you're saying mean things... at least you're paying attention to me. It makes me want more... I'll talk at you as much as it takes.

'Oh Luka... Today too, it's been nice talking at you.'

Even if you hate me... I'll still love you. You, not you, to you, at you... It doesn't matter.

**Message failed to send: This number has been blocked.**

It... doesn't matter. I'll always be a few steps behind you.

Always.

It has now been nine months. Seventy-one weeks, actually. Two hundred and eighty-six days, thirteen hours and six seconds... seven... eight...  
But who's counting?

* * *

**November 28th, 2014; 11:07 AM**

_I actually really liked that one. O.O More so than the first one. Wow._

_It's pretty short compared to my usual chapters, but I think it's fine like that. If it were any longer, it would only become repetitive._

_This story isn't actually supposed to be yuri - it was never intended to sound that way - but there do seem to be some... suggestive lines. See, once the word 'love' is mentioned, everyone immediately comes to that conclusion, right? XD It would seem even my subconscious did the same and only added to it... Well then, if you want to see this as a yuri story, feel free to, I don't mind. ^^ Though I'm not writing a sequel. The sequel for such a story... it would be awfully depressing. Well, worse, I mean. If you insist, the future for this girl... She'll never really get Luka back, so she'll probably end up becoming more and more obsessive until she's finally put behind bars. No, unfortunately, Luka will never visit her. See?! I told you it's depressing! That's why I'm not making a sequel. *pout* ... What's that? You say you didn't want a sequel anyway? You say you really don't care what I do? Tch. Whatever then. *goes to Tamaki corner*_

_The rules are the same as the last time..._

_**In the review section**__ (or by PM if you'd prefer), __**include a rating of this story from 0 to 10, 0 being such shit **__that you couldn't stand even to look at it, __**10 being so absolutely amazing **__that you'll be thinking about it for the rest of the night and all day tomorrow and there's no way it could get any better.  
Then, __**include a summary of how you felt reading it.**__ Examples can be as simple as 'I found it really surprising' or a complete deconstruction of life as we know it. __**Be sure to mention any parts you really liked or disliked.**_

_Hopefully you liked it. ^^ I mean, I did. Felt good to write some angst again, ya know? These crazy monologues... It's what I do best!_

_Love,  
~Naty17_

* * *

**Reviews are very appreciated.**

**Please see the end of the A/N above to fill out the survey... thing.**

**Thank you!**


	3. Case III - 13,966,817

**Stories Never Told**

**September 4th, 2015; 12:04 AM**

_It's been a while._

_It's not that I haven't been trying, but it would seem I kinda lost my ability to write, this past year. I'd sit down, start writing Merry-Go-Round, chapter... what, eleven? And I'd get so frustrated. It just didn't feel right. It was such shit!_

_Finally, I've written something. And it's a little different from normal (not to mention, shorter), and maybe I'll regret it later. But it's that update you've all been pleading for, even if it's not for your favourite stories (which I honestly, truly apologize for; I'm as devastated as you)._

_I apologize in advance, it's a little dark. But then again, that's practically my middle name._

_I feel like I should say more, but I've really nothing left to say. Please don't judge me too harshly._

* * *

**13,996,817**

* * *

It has been nearly half a year since I broke. Twenty-three weeks since I lost it. One hundred sixty-two days since my life ended. Three thousand eight hundred eighty-eight hours since I decided to throw it all away. Two hundred thirty-three thousand two hundred eighty minutes since I decided to try life again.

It all comes down to thirteen million, nine hundred ninety-six thousand, eight hundred and seventeen seconds. Eighteen. Nineteen... Twenty.

To me it seemed like the world had ended. My best friend had not only dumped me, but completely slandered my name and made me an enemy to everyone. A family member was dying in front of me, and I was powerless to stop it. My grades were slowly slipping, little by little, until I'd dropped nearly forty percent from last year. Forty percent, forty percent... It's been about forty-four percent of a year since all of it happened.

Everything was dark. I'd see my friends, and I'd just grow irritated. I'd hear my favourite song and start to cry. I'd take a breath of air and I'd choke. I was slowly slipping away, losing grips of reality and letting go of all of my dreams, as that percentage began to slip just as quickly into a failing mark...

I am not the type whom is good at coping. I do not accept rejection very well, especially not after one thousand two hundred and thirty-eight days of satisfying friendship. I do not accept failure well, not after having been an honour student my entire life without needing to lift a finger. I, who once was an egomaniac, whose favourite person was myself, have changed so much, to the point where I've developed an inferiority complex. I was so ready to forgive her for all the mean things she'd said and done, if she gave me a halfhearted apology and pretended to be mine again.  
When people told me it was my own fault for having been so stupid, so unlikable, such a slut, I believed them, and I apologized for being the way that I am. I was so, so sorry for being the way I was. I'm still sorry for being the way that I am. And I never understood why other people were upset by these comments towards me. "How could they say something like that?!" and they'd get mad at the person. And meanwhile, I'd be confused. "They were only sharing their opinion." Wasn't it okay to be honest with someone? I still don't understand.

I'd really crossed a line. It'd come to the point where I was begging, please, forgive me! I couldn't control my hurt. I was lashing out at everyone and thing, hurting those who tried to help me, because I couldn't control myself. I was so upset that nothing could make me happy. And, having had years of experience with this kind of mental torment, I've grown used to putting on a happy face. I'm damn good at it. It wasn't necessarily fake, but rather, understanding that these things were temporary, and that making it known that I was so upset would only worry those around me. So I'd paste on my happy face and wait until the darkness wore off.

But this time, it didn't wear off. It lasted months. And everything changed.

I stopped eating. It wasn't that I wanted to be skinnier, or anything like that. I'd look at food, and I just wouldn't feel hungry. Whenever I did eat, my stomach would start to cramp like it does when you've overfed, and I wouldn't be able to finish my plate. I lost ten to fifteen pounds because of that.  
I spent most of my time in bed. Even when I wasn't in bed, I kept falling asleep. I'd be in class, listening to the most boring lecture about the most boring things (when, just a few months ago, I might have found them incredibly interesting), and my eyes would start to close. I'd be writing a huge test, and the motivation would just disappear. I'd fold up my arms and fall asleep. Most of my days were spent sleeping. Most of my time awake was spent moping around.

I. Couldn't. Cope.

_You're evil. You're a liar. You're a manipulative bitch. You're slutty. You're trash. You're worth as much as the gum on my shoe. I hope you die. Please eat hemlock. You're ugly inside, and out. You only used me. You disgust me. You're sick? You deserve it. I'm not listening. I don't want to see you. No matter how much you call, I won't answer. I don't trust you, I don't want you, and last of all, I hate you.  
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much. I wish you'd just die. I never want to see you again. I hate you._

I wanted to die.

I could have done it; I was home alone that day. Mother had bought rat poison to try and solve a small pest problem. I knew where it was hidden. I say hidden, but it just stood on the shelf, so accessible, and I grabbed it. And I sat with it.

I'd told her I'd do it. _"A person dies every seven minutes,"_ she'd said, and because I was so desperate, I'd told her, _"Should we start counting?"_ I waited for her to change her mind, to plead with me not to do it. It didn't come. And I was so mad. If I did it, she would regret it. She would regret what she'd done, she would regret how she'd treated me, she would hear about it, think about it, and finally realize this was all her fault.

And I sat there. And I counted.

Six minutes, thirty-two seconds. Six minutes, thirty-three seconds. Six minutes, thirty-four seconds. And as I counted, I cried. Because I couldn't _not_ cry. I wasn't sure what to do anymore. I wasn't sure what to do right now. And I hated the thought of her finding out about what she'd done to me, breathing a sigh of relief and saying, "Finally." I hated the thought of my death satisfying people. It's not as noble an epiphany as realizing there is 'light somewhere', or thinking 'I have too much to lose'. I didn't kill myself because I had too much pride.  
And so once again, my pride, my larger-than-life ego, was the one thing that saved me from myself.

It didn't get better. It didn't get better until I realized it wouldn't get better.  
I went to the hospital. I was administered for a few days- about a week -and was rehabilitated to eat. There were other problems with me, and I was later diagnosed with lactose intolerance - after not having any problem with milk my entire life - and some sort of blood problem. Don't even ask me about the blood, I'm not quite sure myself, nor do I particularly care. But I take my pills everyday.

I believe that most people suck. I have voiced this opinion before, and it is what we believe. Whether we admit it or not, we are all terrible people. There is no such thing as a good person. There are only people. People who hate each other, but also, people who accept each other.

I let go of my poison, and met other people. And they're good people that I have grown to love. But at the same time, I don't trust them completely. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that no one is forever but yourself. People care about people until they've outlived their uses. You'll only like someone until they stop being likable. Loyalty only works to certain extent, and in the end, we're alone. But at least from time to time, we have some company.

In the end, I changed a lot. I have extremely poor self-esteem. I am much more paranoid and emotional. I've become even more pessimistic than I was, and I lost that edge of mine that made me feel so strong.  
I've become weak, and a fool, trash, every other name in the book.

But I'm still alive.

I'm still alive, and living, and changing. And maybe that's bittersweet. But what did you expect from someone like me? I tell it as it is. Things aren't quite better. But I'm alive. And it's gone from worse, to bad, and from bad, to meh. I'll take 'meh' any day.

I'm an entirely different person than I was. If the old me saw myself, she'd probably hate me and call me weak. She'd probably give me a speech on how I should not have turned my back on that girl, because she obviously had her own problems, right? To treat me so badly? I should have been there for her, no matter what!  
Sometimes, it's not worth it. People are not worth it. And I've learned that now. What I need to start learning is that _I'm_ worth it. I still don't believe it. But realizing the problem is a good way to start.

So, what is my name this time? Is it Hatsune Miku? Megpoid Gumi? Or Kagamine Rin?  
In the end, no matter what I called myself, it was me all along. Or maybe it was you. Or maybe it was all of us. Either way, I leave you with this to interpret how you will. After one hundred and sixty-two days and many abandoned drafts, I've finally figured out how to get out everything I've been feeling for these last two hundred thirty-three thousand three hundred and seventeen minutes. It's not very heartwarming, nor is it very interesting, but now, it's yours.

I'm sorry for having wasted your time. I guess it's just the way I am. :)

* * *

**To everyone with which I fucked up, I am so sorry.**

**To everyone who fucked me up, fuck you too. (Heh heh~)**

**To everyone reading this, thank you so much.**

**And to myself, last but not least, good luck.**


	4. Case IV - Ikasama

**Stories Never Told**

**October 17th, 2015; 11:10PM**

We're back now to our normal way of doing things. ^^" Sorry for the disturbance last chapter.

This is an adventure I've had in my head for ages. Kemu's PANDORA VOXX is a series I admire so much. The stories are so unique, so amazingly interesting, I had to figure out how they were all connected. So for a long time, I'd connected the pieces myself. I really, really love this story. I'm very proud of it. Yet, it's so intricate that I've no idea where to start, how to put it onto paper.

I'd given up on that for a long time; maybe I'm just not meant to write a story like that. Maybe it's best to just keep it in my head. But somehow, I wrote this... thing. It's not perfect, but I kind of like it.

You get a few previews of my vision, a little idea of what I have in mind. Someone familiar with the PANDORA VOXX series - Life-Reset Button, Six Trillion Years and One Night, Wind-Up God, Reincarnation, so on and so on and so on - should definitely see some references.

This is an idea that, while doubtful, I will consider expanding into a full story, so please be mindful of that when you critique it. ;)

**Title: **Ikasama**  
Characters: **Gumi, Rin  
**Genre:** Adventure/Supernatural  
**Rating: **K+  
**Subject:** I'll spend my life running, resetting, cheating and whatever else, if it means I can finally save you.**  
**

* * *

**Case #4 - Ikasama**

* * *

She couldn't really explain it.

It had just appeared in front of her, like the screen of a television, and she was almost certain that the people surrounding her couldn't see it. Pictures curved around her, like some futuristic technology, playing feeds from who-knows-where. Were they real or all in her head? Either way, amidst the chaos, she'd focused on one specific frame.

Kaiba.

She recognized the area, it having been the corner she'd turned at a while ago. It had only taken her fifteen or so minutes to have walked from here to there, so if she ran, maybe it would only be half of that, seven minutes. Maybe she'd make it this time.

She'd never run this hard in her life. Her lungs swallowed cold air and she felt the ice scorch her from within. But she didn't stop. Every time her feet hit the pavement, pain shot through her long legs. But she couldn't stop. An older gentleman walked in front of her, carrying a crate of fruits. And she didn't stop.

She crashed into him, his crate falling to the ground and the fruit rolling everywhere. "I'm sorry, sir!"

**"Watch where you're going!" **he yelled, as she frantically tried to scoop up the red apples.

She apologized again and dropped as many fruits as she can back in their crate. She was running out of time... How long had she spent here? A minute? Two? How long did she have?! "I'm sorry, I have to go!"

**"HEY! I can't sell these! They're bruised."**

She ignored him, ignored the guilt, and started running again.

How had she gotten those screens to pop up? She couldn't do it now. No matter how much she pleaded to see something, anything, nothing appeared. She could only run through the busy street, pushing and shoving.

She wasn't sure why he was doing this. She wasn't sure why he was wearing girls' clothes. Why had he come back? Had he given up on his dreams? Why?! To leave, to go so far away, only to give up on everything so soon? It made his entire journey pointless.

A few minutes left. Maybe even less time. A screen popped up in front of her, but this time, it wasn't the blond boy. This time, a girl was pulling out her long blue hair, infuriated. The runner ignored it, mumbling apologies as she pushed past an old woman. She could see the video from the corner of her eye, could practically hear the blue-haired girl's crying.

There was blood now. Blood running down that girl's arm, scars traced on her neck, chest, hands...

And then straight ahead.

The street.

Another screen appeared of a child, barely a skeleton. Her head hit the wall, hard. Hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing, hurting, killing, torturing-

She was so close. The street was there and- "LEN!"

He was there. She could see him, his blond hair free from its usual ponytail, wearing white clothes. There was something in his hair, maybe a costume piece. And he was standing. On the crosswalk. Right in the middle of the road. As the light turned green.

"NOO!"

Why wasn't anyone noticing? Why wasn't anyone stopping him?!

From the corner of her eye, the blue girl gave up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a button.

The truck made impact. Gumi screamed. And then suddenly she stood somewhere else, in a busy intersection. A familiar intersection. And a screen popped up, like before. A familiar screen. She saw the truck hit the blond boy. Her throat squeezed, she felt her heart drop, and she looked around.

The same woman dressed in black walked by to her left. To her right was the young couple. They stopped and kissed, just like they had last time. In the exact same spot. At the exact same time.  
PANDORA was giving her another chance.

She began to run.

Faster this time.

Her legs didn't ache, even though she'd already sprinted last time. She dropped the umbrella she'd been holding in her hands and pushed by people.

**"Watch where you're going!"** The apples fell everywhere. She didn't have time to pick them up. **"HEY! I can't sell these! They're bruised!"**

Focus. Faster. She had to save him.

**"Hey, be carefu-! MY ICE CREAM!"**

At the sound of her little brother's cries, a woman spun and set her target on the runner. "HOW DARE YOU! I paid money for that, you know! Haven't you any shame?!"

Stop, stop! She had to go, she had to go-

From the corner of her eye, the girl on the screen reached into her pocket with her bloodied hands.

...Hadn't her shirt been orange the first time?

Suddenly she was back in that intersection. To her left, a woman dressed in black walked by. To her right, a young couple walked hand in hand. The girl smiled at her boyfriend and plucked a leaf out of his hair. They laughed. And suddenly a screen popped up in front of her, a picture of a boy standing on a crosswalk in the middle of the street.

She started running.

How many times have we done this? How many times have we tried - and failed - to reach our goals? How many times have we died, how many times have we predicted, how many times have we reset, how many times have we disappeared? We've wished, we've dreamed, and every time it ends the same, stuck in an endless cycle of hope and failure.

Why do we even bother?

There he was. In the middle of the street. She saw the opposite light turn yellow, then red. She jumped. She felt the white leather, dug in her fingers and yanked backwards, heard the blonde cry out as they fell, let out a shaky breath as the truck sped off behind them.

She did it. She did it. She'd saved Len. Len was safe.

The screens went out. She could focus on what was in front of her, finally. A few drips of rain began to fall, but she'd abandoned her umbrella. People crowded around her. "Are you okay?" they asked, grabbing at her, helping her up.

"I-I'm fine," the girl said breathlessly, "but you really should ask L- LEN!"

The boy had stood while the crowds swarmed and slipped away between them. Gumi ran after him, but people pulled her back. "Careful! Don't run, you're hurt!" She pulled, shedding off her jacket as she pushed.

It seemed she was always pushing. And that blonde was always running.

"LEN! Come back!"

At the sound of his name, the person nearly tripped. The ribbon slipped from their hair. They glanced over their shoulder, saw Gumi behind them, panicked, ran to the curb-

"STOP! DON'T DO IT!"

The crowds had followed her. "Honey, are you alright?" a woman asked her, gently rubbing her back. "That truck nearly hit you, you really should sit down."

Gumi spun. "Me?! D-Didn't you see Len? Len just...!" She turned and stared at the traffic. The tears in her eyes confused her vision. She couldn't see anything. "L-Len just... he jumped! In front of the car...! Didn't you see him earlier?! I pulled him out of the way, he's even more hurt than I am-"

The woman stared at her, dressed in black, her concern increasing more and more as the young girl babbled. "Honey... it was just you. No one else was there."

"N-No, but there was Le-"

A screen appeared at the corner of her vision. She ignored it and focused on the traffic. No, this couldn't be right...

He stood there, in the middle of the road. And the car had stopped right in front of him.

Thank PANDORA, they'd seen him. They'd stopped. They got out of their car, they walked towards Len, they bent down in front of him- "Stupid cat! Get off the road!" The feline let out a loud, irritated meow and sat down stubbornly. "Go! Scram!" He didn't seem to even notice Len, standing very still right behind the cat. "Go away!" He tried to pick up the cat. It hissed and bat its paw, threatening to scratch him.

Len opened his mouth and screamed.

It was ear-shattering, loud and tortured. It made Gumi cover her ears. It could have shattered windows. But no one reacted. No one turned towards the sound. No one winced or covered their ears. No one seemed to even hear it.

She ran from the grasp of the woman. She grabbed Len's hand. She pulled. And as Len stumbled out of the way, the stubborn cat stood, and proudly walked towards the sidewalk. "Finally! Stupid cat..." As soon as the cat was off the road, the man started his car and the traffic began to dissipate, everything returning back to normal.

"H-Honey, wait!"

As soon as the blonde was off the road she yanked her hand out of Gumi's grasp and sprinted, away from here, away from this place, away from the girl who'd saved her.

This wasn't Len. It looked like Len. It even sounded a bit like Len. But somehow, Gumi knew. Even if they were identical, this girl was nothing like the boy Gumi knew. This person was a stranger, and yet... somehow she wasn't.

Screens appeared in front of her. A blonde girl in a classroom. Other students talked amongst each other, laughed, chattered, gestured, squealed, moved, _lived_. Then there was a lone blonde in the middle of them all, sitting at her desk, immobile... _invisible._

The same girl, in another screen, ran towards a warehouse. She grabbed rope and began to tie knots, amateurish, like she couldn't remember the exact directions. She stared at it for a few seconds then raised it over her head, slowly dropping it down over her knotted blond hair, the rope brushing against her long lashes, over her small nose, kissing her lips. It sat patiently around her pale neck and she yanked a little, testing it, admiring the way it choked her if she pulled hard enough...

Gumi ran. It seemed she was always running; maybe she'd been running her whole life.

_"What do you think?"_

A woman stood in a dark room, every wall covered in scenes. Brushing a pink curl over her shoulder, she squinted, pulling the screen wider apart with her fingers, increasing its size.

_"You've given them so many chances,_" she murmured to her god._ "Do you really think it will work this time?" _She pursed her lips as she watched the foolish girl run. _"You've let them try thousands and thousands of times again... Don't you think it's time this game end?"_

Of course, PANDORA didn't reply- not out loud, at least. But she already knew what it would say if it could. She could feel the answer within her, as an entity of its creation. She let out a sigh, pushing the current screen away and pulling up another one from its right, widening it with her hands to make it larger.

The invisible girl hung from the ceiling. Despite her attempts to stay calm, her body still struggled on its own, at least part of her fighting to stay alive. Her smile stretched as she felt her breath leave her, death welcome her... Her rope snapped. She fell to the ground, gulping deep breaths of air, coughing. She grabbed the rope's end, stared up at the other half, still tied to the ceiling. The rope had been weakened, chewed on by rats. And it had snapped, saving her life. She'd failed to kill herself, yet again. The rope slipped through her weakened grip; as she slipped into the unconscious, she began to cry.

_"Should I intervene?" _the wind-up god asked. _"They're caught in cycles, all of them. Running, dying, lusting, lying helpless... they're too focused on their own circles to worry about other things. Saving the world is the last thing on their minds."_

She brought up another screen, widened it and watched. The blue-haired girl was cutting at herself again. The blood pumped freely from the wound in her arm and for a moment the girl stopped sobbing, watching it with a dark sense of curiousity. And then she stopped. For a minute, she felt numb; she couldn't feel anything around her. "This life isn't good enough," she murmured. From her pocket, she pulled out a button.

_"Prediction, invincibility, to disappear, to try and reset..." _The wind-up god breathed a sigh. _"It's meaningless."_

She minimized the scene so that dozens, hundreds of moments surrounded her side-by-side. Pasts, presents, futures, surrounded her. She could see the humans' past attempts, and even some of their future failures. It was tiring.

_"Of course I'll obey you, PANDORA," _the wind-up girl said softly, her cobalt blue eyes taking in the visions she'd witnessed hundreds of thousands of times. _"You're my only god. I will do anything you desire me to do." _She paused. _"Must I die again?"_

She closed her eyes and felt the answer within her. She didn't hear words; it was more like a feeling, like an intuition, and she always knew what PANDORA was trying to get across. _"I see... You want me to grant a wish?"_ She smiled, twirling pink hair around her finger. _"It's the only thing I'm able to do. I was born to grant wishes; I'd be honoured to use my ability for your purpose." _

She focused on what PANDORA had to say, and slowly nodded. _"Ah... Is that so...? I see."_ She stepped away from the scenes, letting it sink in for a moment. _"I'll do anything you want me to do."_

"Rin! STOP! Don't do it! Please, don't die-!"

She sat, folding her legs together as she watched the green-haired girl in her mind. Slowly she smiled, remembering the many times before now, the way she'd screamed, the way she'd failed.

_"So this time again... God is your enemy?"_

She closed her eyes and left her subconscious world, waking up on the seat of a bus. She glanced out the window, at the tall buildings, knowing one of these would be a courtroom; her desired destination. She smiled, pressing a button to indicate her stop, and slipped on her glasses.

"P-Pardon me for asking," a woman spoke, bouncing a blanketed baby in her arms, "but aren't you that lawyer that was on TV...?" She took the lawyer's silence as admition. "That's right, you're representing that Kaiba-Hatsune case, aren't you? The prosecutor?" Her baby began to cry and she swore, bouncing it a little more energetically. "I really hope you win... I just can't stand perverts like that! A teacher, preying on a teenage student... Disgusting!" She shivered animately. "He ought to get the death penalty!"

The lawyer smiled, standing and grabbing her briefcase. More to herself than to the mother beside her, she said smoothly: "We'll see about that."

* * *

**October 18th, 2015; 10:12 PM**

Sorry if the end confused you a little; you'll have to read between the lines a little. Remember Life-Reset Button? Remember Kaiba-sensei? Seems things got a little... _intense._

I find I don't really have much to say about this piece. It's very rough and there are inconsistencies (wasn't it raining at one point?) and if you haven't been paying attention to kemu's series, a lot of this might sound very random. _'From her pocket, the blue-haired girl pulls out a button.'_ *expecting some huge twist/catastrophe/_something_* _'She minimized the screen.'_ Like, can someone say anti-climax? XD

But yeah, as I've said several times, this is heavily based on kemu's PANDORA VOXX series. The button part is a reference to Life-Reset Button. This whole oneshot was based on Ikasama Game Life, with Rin appearing from Invisible. Special cameo goes to Six Trillion Years and One Night, as well as a separate cameo to Wind-Up God.  
They're amazing songs, so if you don't know them, I strongly recommend you get to know them. Like, right now. 10/10 amazingness.

As was the standard before, please review this chapter including a rating of the story from 0 to 10, 0 being shit, 10 being absolutely amazing, and leave a comment about what you liked/disliked, etc.

I guess that's all for today.

.o0o.

**November 16th, 2015; 11:19 PM**

A month went by with me forgetting to post it. Huh? But it was already finished! Am I so much of a procrastinator that I couldn't bother logging on and posting a simple story? Sorry about that. ^^" It slipped my mind. A lot of things have been keeping me busy- maybe I'll tell you about that later.

For now, though, I hope you've enjoyed this story, and as usual, sorry for the wait!

~Naty17

* * *

**This life isn't nearly good enough... but since I don't have a life-reset button, I'll push the review button instead.  
Shall you give it a try? ^^**


	5. Case V - Drafts, Plots and Stories

**Stories Never Told**

**November 15th, 2016; 12:16 AM**

So, I'm trying to post more. You know, because I never seem to post anymore.

For those who don't follow my every update but still like to know what I'm doing (you should probably follow me wink wink nudge nudge), I just uploaded a new chapter of Lost and Found yesterday - the _re-write_ version, not the original. So, check that out if you feel like it. If not, well, I suppose we could just sit here and chat... Hi. How's it going? Nice day, huh? ...Yep.

Anyway, because I want to post something, somewhere, somehow, I've decided to compile some old drafts and post them as a sort-of, kind-of, "What could have been" post... I dunno. XD See, over the years I've had a lot of different ideas, but only few have actually come to fruition. As a result, I have dozens of unfinished drafts... would you like to see them?

I'd been thinking of doing this for a while, but I worried how people would react. I mean, you start reading something, you're getting super into it and then- eh? Did it just end mid-sentence?! Please remember that these are not stories, they are ideas; when I didn't feel like writing them anymore, I'd stop, even if it was right before the good part or within the first sentence. I'd stop, just like that. Please be wary so not to be misled by this compilation, it's not to be taken overly seriously.

Please enjoy!

* * *

**Case V:  
Drafts, Plots and Abandoned Stories**

* * *

**Number 1: Nightmare**

**This story was inspired by a nightmare I once had,** hence the title. Because I'd given up on making Red into the third Darker than Death story, I'd thought this could become its third, though I'd planned for it to be rather short - less than ten chapters in total. It starred a pregnant Meiko, who chose to have a child solely for her husband's happiness, because she loved him so much...

_From the original A/N; __**March 31st, 2014; 10:15 PM**_:

"As stated, the third Darker than Death story was supposed to star an anti-hero. I keep these themes here, except instead of a male hero, we have a female heroine. Maybe I shouldn't call her a hero... We have a woman that could be walking along the same streets as you, that you wouldn't think anything bad of when you see her, but that inside her head, inside her heart...  
You never know how people are feeling just by looking at them. Most of the time, people won't listen.

I want to help get people to listen. I am in no way justifying their crimes, but... I want people to see that these people are also human, not monsters. Behind every human, there is a story. This is hers.

_'Don't let your children near her,' _they whispered._ 'She'll eat them.'_

She could be walking along the same streets as you...

**Are you sure you're ready?**"

* * *

"Do you see it?"

She didn't really, but smiled anyway at his excitement.

"Look, look, that's its hand there!"

"Sir, it hasn't developed hands yet. It's still too early for that."

"No, no, right there, see? Don't you see the hands there?"

"Sir, it does not have hands ye-"

"No, right _there_, see?"

"Again sir, at this stage it is impossible for it to have developed any ha-"

"Oh and look, those must be its feet!"

"Kaito, calm down," Meiko laughed. He appeared to have ingested at least five cups of sugar before arriving and she was sure the doctor would believe her. Lucky for her, Haku was a patient woman. "How long until we find out its gender?"

"It takes about twenty-four weeks to get a clear enough ultra-sound, but if you're lucky, it could be earlier," Haku answered with a smile.

Both women watched amused as Kaito stared at the red-colored screen. "That's my baby," he whispered.

"You mean 'our' baby, don't you?" Meiko asked with a laugh.

"Oh, of course, of course! It's just..." A bashful smile. "I've always wanted kids... You know, I don't even care if it's a boy or a girl, I'm just..." He took a big breath and smiled proudly. "I'm just really happy. I mean... I'm going to be a dad."

Meiko tried not to let him see her look of concern. She was certain Kaito would make a fantastic father, but... "And I'm going to be a mom..."

Dreams start out happy and innocent. You smile to each other without realizing that behind you occurs a horrible scene, a scene that will have you burst into tears when you awake, a concept so horrible that all you can think is, 'Why?'

"I had to talk her into it, Mrs. Haku. She kept saying she didn't think it was a good idea, but I begged and begged and she finally gave in. I'll bet you're happy now, right? Right Mei?"

"Mm-hm," Meiko nodded. She stared at her stomach. She wasn't showing yet, of course, she was only pregnant six weeks, but... It really didn't feel like there was a baby inside. She hadn't had any morning sickness. She hadn't gotten any acne nor any pregnancy 'glow'. She felt the same she had a month ago, the same she'd felt a year ago. Perhaps it was too early.

"You don't have a history of any medication, do you Meiko?" Haku asked, a pen and clipboard in her hand.

"I used to take anti-depressants," Meiko said quietly, "but I quit those years ago."

"You took anti-depressants?" Kaito asked. His eyes were opened wide in that cheery way she loved. He seemed so... innocent.

"For a while, yes... I stopped about a year after I met you."

"Oh, I get it." He winked at her. "You didn't need them anymore once you met me, because I made you happier than anybody, right?"

Well... yes, that was part of the truth. About three quarters of it. The last part was that she had to stop taking them regardless of her mood before she developed an addiction.

"Apart from the anti-depressants?" Come to think of it, she probably hadn't needed to say anything about those pills. Haku, after all, had been the one who'd prescribed them.

"Nothing I can think of," Meiko answered.

Maybe it was something in her voice that sounded off, but Haku suddenly looked up and stared at her, examining her face. Meiko struggled to keep a straight expression, although she wasn't sure what she would need to hide. She trusted Haku. She wasn't hiding anything. She hadn't taken any other pills besides those anti-depressants, had she? She'd never been attached to any drugs and she wasn't alcoholic. No, there didn't seem to be anything she'd forgotten about.

"What is it, Haku?"

Kaito was glued to the picture on the screen again.

Haku shook her head and set her gaze back on her clipboard. "Do you know if your mother suffered any certain problems during her pregnancy?"

"I was born two weeks early and she gained a little more weight then she should have, that I know. She's always reminding me of it every day."

Haku laughed. "Anything else? Nothing mental health-wise?"

"She might have been OCD, but I think she was just being irritating. She'd make my dad reorganize the CDs and put them in alphabetical order, and other things like that. Still, I think she was just trying to be annoying more than anything else.

Haku wrote that down. "Any severe cramps or stomach pains during her pregnancy?"

"Not that I know of."

"And how about you, Meiko?"

Meiko shrugged. "I feel the same as I always do."

Kaito snapped to attention at that. "Are you sure you're okay? I can get you grapefruit juice if you're feeling sick or anything, just let me know, okay? I'll be your servant for the next nine months."

"You know I'll milk that for all its worth."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'd be more worried if you didn't." Ah, he knew her pretty well.

"How has morning sickness been treating you?"

"Perfect, actually. I haven't gotten sick once at all."

Haku looked impressed. "You've got a considerate baby. It's treating you exceptionally well compared to other mothers that come in. One poor girl walked in with a bucket in her arms. I couldn't help but sympathize."

"If you do start feeling sick though, just let me know, okay?" He was like an excited puppy. It made her happy to see him like this. After all, she'd done all of this for him.

"Are you hoping for a specific gender?" Haku asked as she scribbled a note.

"I don't care what gender it is, as long as it's healthy," Kaito grinned.

Meiko admired how bright his face seemed. She'd always thought the women were supposed to get the pregnancy 'glow', but Kaito seemed to be proving the theory otherwise. "I second that."

"Something that might be interesting to look up is some of the old wives' tales. They're supposed to tell you the gender of your baby, though they aren't always accurate. Rather, they're about fifty-fifty. Still, it can be interesting."

"Ooh, yeah, let's try it!" He glanced over at Meiko, waiting for her approval.

"It sounds interesting," she agreed, and her heart flip-flopped at the smile she received as a reward.

"You may have to wait a while first as some of the questions are meant for when she starts showing, but I recommend trying it. Keep in mind though that the results are not at all definitive. There aren't any scientific facts serving as basis."

"We understand." Kaito's eyes kept drifting back to that picture as if he were drawn to it like a magnet. Was he really that happy about having a baby?

"I don't really get what all the excitement is about," Meiko admitted to her mother-in-law.

Ann paused in pouring the tea. "Don't you? That's quite unusual for a girl your age. It wasn't any accident, so I thought you would have been a bit more cheerful about it."

"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it or anything, but... it just feels the same to me." She let her hand fall onto her tummy. "It just doesn't feel like there's anything inside here."

Ann sat and stirred in a teaspoon of sugar. "Did you want kids for yourself, Meiko?"

Ann was someone Meiko trusted wholeheartedly. She was like the mother Meiko wished upon a star she could have, always thrilled to see her and offering an ear or a smile when she needed it. She never judged and always brought good advice. Meiko often came to her for her troubles. She'd been the first Meiko had told about the pregnancy.

"... You've asked me that before."

"Saying you haven't thought of it before is a terrible answer, you know. I guarantee it's a lie."

Meiko sighed. "I'd never thought about it before because I kind of just assumed I wouldn't be having kids. It was just... I don't know. I never thought about it realistically, so..."

* * *

**It ends here. **As you can see, I never went very far with it, but I remember what I'd once planned.

Meiko would have her baby, a little girl, and Kaito would be absolutely overjoyed. He was really good with kids and Meiko knew he'd be the best father ever... except unfortunately, she didn't share those parenting skills. And as she watched Kaito spend every waking moment with his new daughter, Meiko started to feel jealous - of an infant! But despite herself, she couldn't keep from feeling this way about her baby girl. Instead of motherly love, she felt hatred and jealousy because Kaito loved this baby more than he loved his wife. It escalated until Meiko became a danger both to the baby and to herself, losing control of everything.  
In the end, she has no choice but to abandon them both, or she'll kill the baby with her own two hands - she has lost all control of herself. Or... maybe she already _has_ killed the baby, and is escaping her own guilt... Who can say?

* * *

**Number 2: Red**

**Oh hey, speaking of Red!** So this story was inspired by a really sad story I heard on the radio. A young boy brought a gun to his school. He hit one classmate in the leg, another in the stomach, and killed his teacher (who died trying to protect the students). It's tragic, of course, but even more tragic (to me, at least) was the boy himself who, as the children screamed and cried, continually shrieked "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!", sobbing as he pulled his trigger.

It was devastating to me - and more so was the fact that the world blamed this child, blamed violent video games, blamed bad parenting when, can't you see? The poor boy was hurting just as much as everyone else around him. He couldn't even see where his gun pointed, his eyes were so full of tears. And at the end? He turned the gun on himself - one of the only four victims. It hurt me so much to think that, even at the end, he thought the children were laughing at him. It makes you wonder what he's suffered through, for his ideas to be so distorted. People only began to care about him after he'd killed people, but what about before? What about when his classmates no doubt teased _him_ to death?

I began to write Red with these thoughts in mind. There is no such thing as a monster, only human. No matter how "sinful" or "evil" someone appears to you, they are made of the same flesh and bone. I aimed to show that.

_From the original A/N; __**November 8th, 2013; 8:01 AM:**_

"I write this to change how you think. That is my motivation. Realize how everyone thinks and suddenly the world seems a little less evil and a lot more sad."

* * *

_Do you feel that?_

_Mayu, do you feel it?_

_Do you hear it?_

_Can you see me?_

_They're paying, Mayu. They're paying. They're regretting it. For the both of us. I'm doing this for the both of us. They're paying... They're paying..._

* * *

I sit up panting heavily, sweating everywhere. It's still dark and my room is flooded with the color black. The red numbers of my alarm clock shine four twenty-two. Too early to wake up, but too awake to fall asleep. I'd might as well.

I raise my arms above me, stretching until I hear the pop, and sit up a little straighter. The sheets beneath me are kind of damp, kind of gross, but it'll be fine. I can change them later. If I remember. If I bother.

I pull up my pants, which slipped a little during my sleep, and re-tie the strings that hold them up. Tying them in a loose knot. No attention paid to how pretty it may be.

Well? Now what?

I pull on my blinds and watch them roll up themselves. The sky is really dark. You can see the neighbouring house and, well, that's about it. Maybe a tree over there. Everything is shrouded in black.

As I think that thought, of everything being black, my mind wanders back to the dream. It was... strange. But not unfamiliar. The same, really. More of a daydream than anything.

The same school, the same people, the same laughter... the same gunshots. Sick thoughts. Sick thoughts...

Another gulp of air as I try to calm myself. Crap, I need to stop this. I'm going fucking crazy.

I strip off my sweaty shirt and throw it somewhere on the floor. I'll get it later. Put it in the laundry. If I remember.

I should make breakfast. Or fix my hair, or find my uniform. Or something. Maybe.

One more deep breath, a quick scan of my room, and a need for something, someone. I twist the knob and sneak out across the hall to her room. There's a big crack in her door when once I punched it, a long time ago, when Mum wanted to put me in a time-out. I trace it, feeling strange, before I open her door.

She's still in there, sleeping soundly on her worn mattress. It makes me feel better: at least she's sleeping now. She looks so much more peaceful when sleeping... Sometimes I hope she'll never wake up, just for her sake.

"Mayu..."

Her cream-blond hair, though knotted, flows around her in a way beyond beautiful. Her long lashes have got the yellow guck stuck on them, always left over after crying. Her face is a little too pale and her lips are closer to purple than red. Her arms have a few scratches on them. But still she is beautiful. It scares me to see her this way, tear-streaked and cold and always so lonely. She has a habit of throwing off her blankets in her sleep and her room is cold enough as it is. I want to get her some warmer pajamas, but...

I sit down on the bed beside her. It'll hurt like hell to try and wake her up and I know she'll make me even later than I usually am for school, but I can never blame her. My sister can't sleep. She gets nightmares, nightmares that make her emotionally unstable and violent. And it hurts. Because she's just like me. She acts the same way I did and nobody understands her. So they laugh at her too. Just like they laughed at me. Just like they _laugh_ at me. In present tense.

Carefully I pet her hair, being sure not to wake her. She doesn't even stir. She's exhausted. Of course she is. I am too.

With a sigh I stand and begin picking up some of the torn books carpeting the floor. Most of them are already striped with tape. Only a limited amount of books and a lot of ripping to do; she's bound to re-use them eventually. And she has. Almost every page.

As I bend to pick up another book I hear a crunch. A sound like glass. I lift my foot and sure enough there are a bunch of broken shards underneath. Great. What from? My eyes drift to the small lamp on the floor near her night table. Oh no. Shit, no, no, no...!  
I kneel beside the lamp and turn it over, angling its hat so I'll be able to see inside. Sure enough, the lightbulb is missing. Well, not missing. I know exactly where it is.

"Shit," I mutter. There goes her lamp. We don't have any other lightbulbs. "Damn it..."

And here I am again. Picking up the pieces. They break her into pieces and I try so, so hard to fix her... It's obsessive. It's all I can think about. Helping Mayu. Saving Mayu. Avenging Mayu...

I've got most of the pieces but not all of them. Some are just too small. I just hope she doesn't step on them and hurt herself. Please don't hurt yourself, Mayu...

With another sigh, I walk out into our kitchen and dump the glass out. Another glance at the clock. Four forty-one. Three hours until school starts. Two and a half hours before I'm supposed to take my bus. Five hours until Mayu's school starts. She can't go by herself. She's too small. It's too dangerous. I take her. Everyday. Because if I'm at least with her, I know she'll be okay, even though a fourteen-year-old is probably nothing against some twenty-something holding a gun. But I think the chances of a little nine-year-old alone surviving the same situation is a bit lower, so with her I'll be. I'll always be. She's all I have.

Four forty-three. A yawn. I've finished all my homework, though I haven't triple-checked it yet. I have time to spare, right? I'd might as well check... again...

My bag is by the front door. My binders are in my bag. We save up during the summer so we can get any school supplies we need. I just re-use my binders every year, but Mayu's books are always ripped, ruined, scribbled on or burnt. Some are her fault. The rest are _theirs_.

The faint sound of dripping water. Right. I forgot.

Binder tucked under my arm, I walk back to our kitchen. Near the hall is one of the pots, sitting patiently on the ground as it fills with water. Water from the ceiling. The roof is rotting and everything leaks. Costs a fortune to repair it.  
I grab the pot and dump out enough water to fill half its capacity. It goes down the drain. Swirling. Like a hurricane.  
The pot goes back in its place and the drops continue to echo every time they tap against its silvery floor.

The bowls under the sink, near the door, a few feet away from the window and the one right beside my room are also emptied out. It's been cold lately, but we've gotten a lot of rain. I don't know which I hate more: Rain or snow. Wet versus cold. Both displeasing. If it can't be sunny, why not just keep it gray? Why force cloud's tears?

That's what Mayu used to say when she was younger. 'Why does the sky cry all the time, Len? Who's making it so sad? Why do they want to make it so sad? It's just not fair for the poor sky!' She doesn't say things like that anymore. Her innocence, they stole it from her. Now she is the one crying.

I don't like school. I mean, Mayu hates it much more, but I really don't like mine either. Sure, a big part of it has to do with the people. A bigger part has to do with the fact that it takes up seven hours of my time, time that could be spent fixing things at home or getting a better job so we can actually have things. Wasted time. But I need it.  
I need my high school diploma or I won't be able to do anything. I'll be stuck here. Mayu will be stuck here too. She won't be able to go anywhere because to go somewhere would require money. Her dreams will be crushed. She'll be stuck in this house 'til her death. So I need to find a job and get the money so I can take her as far as I possibly can, whether it be to the other side of the world or to the end of the driveway. I'll do anything to get her what she wants.

So even though I hate school, I have to do well at it. I can't risk having to do it during the summer. I can't risk failing anything. I have to win. I have to be the best I can, if only for Mayu. She is my sole reason behind everything I do. If it weren't for her existence, I'd have died a long time ago. It is because she exists that I exist. I owe her my life, I guess. She is the reason I haven't yet killed myself, the only reason.

I open my binder to the math section. Slopes. Useless, but for some reason, the complete basis of grade nine math. But it doesn't matter what I think. I need it to be perfect. No mistakes allowed.

The points are (1, 4) and (6, -8). What is the slope? It's easy. You just have to use the equation y2 - y1 over x2 - x1. The second number of the point's coordinates is the y, the vertical correspondence. The x is the first number, the horizontal correspondence. You take the y from the second point - in this case, (-8), and divide it by the y in the first point, (4). The answer is -2. Then you do the same to the x, the second x divided by the first x: (6) / (1) = 6. And then, you take these new numbers and divide those together, 6 over 2. 6 divided by -2 is -3. The slope of these two points is -3.

It's easy once you understand it, yet my class can't seem to get it right. This will be our sixth day reviewing the same subject. Fantastic.

My graphs are right. Every point is linear, as asked of me, and fit with the assigned slopes. The titles, the numbers, everything is right. Every question is completely correct. Just like they were the second time I checked. Just like they were the first.

Five thirty-six. Still too much time. Enough time to look over my English summaries, conveniently stored in the same binder.

It's boring, really. I hate homework. But it's not like I have anything else to do. Our bills have been paid. The tape on the ceiling hasn't ripped yet. Breakfast'll get cold if I start now. So there's nothing else to do. Nothing else...

... except think.

I don't like thinking too much. Naturally, that's inevitable. It's just impossible not to think, especially when bored. But thinking will make me think back to that dream, the dreams I've been having so often these last few months. And I can't think too much about those. If I think about them, I'll go crazy. I'll have no choice but to admit something is wrong. We don't have the money or time for something to be wrong with me. So I won't think about them. I'll work instead.

_'Act 1, Scene 1:  
-The Capulet servants, Sampson and Gregory, joke together about what they could do to the Montagues, who they think they are superior to.  
-A riot breaks out between the two rivaling houses when the two Capulet servants bite their thumb at a few Montague servants they see. Biting your thumb to someone is an extreme insult in that era.  
-Prince Escales arrives and ends the riot. He threatens death over the masters of both families should something similar arise once again, for it has happened already three times.  
-Romeo's mother asks Benvolio, Romeo's close friend, if he has seen him. She is glad he wasn't present during the fray. Benvolio answers that Romeo has been avoiding him and promises to find out why.  
-Benvolio finds Romeo and asks why he seems so glum. Romeo answers that she who he loves does not love him back. He is very depressed about it and Benvolio encourages him to seek other women. Romeo is not convinced. He thinks he can only ever love Rosaline._

_List of Characters involved:  
Sampson, Gregory, Benvolio, Tybalt, Montague, Capulet, Lady Montague, and Romeo_

_Setting: A public place in Verona'_

It's all so easy, yet guaranteed most people will not have finished it or will hand it in completely wrong and butchered. It's always like that. They just don't care.

I check over Scene II, Scene III, Scene IV, and Scene V.

* * *

**My homework was so boring, **I couldn't even finish it for artistic purposes.

Why I included such detailed homework is a mystery - and also, a move of pure idiocy. *sigh* Let this be a lesson, children: If you find your homework boring, why the hell would you include it in a story that's supposed to entertain others? Obviously they're just going to skip over it. Just say "I began on my homework" and finish it there. Yeesh...

So anyway, how did it end?

...Well. To be honest, I'd planned to make up the story as I went along with it, so I don't have much set in stone.

I'd planned to have Len make a friend - a girl, maybe Rin? Gumi? - who he'd become very close to... and eventually betrayed by. While juggling all of this, he's learning that he isn't making enough to sustain the costs of the house and property, the likes of which are going to be taken from them. So, as a homeless teen with a distraught mentally ill child on his hands-... Oh, I forgot to mention! Little Mayu is getting the crap beat out of her! Ah, 'tis the beauty of society, because she is different and dirty, her classmates detest her as much as they hate Len. They do everything they can to break her.

It all culminates when the friend Len had made, that cute girl he'd thought might finally understand him, is caught torturing his poor little sister... and Len realizes nobody can be trusted. He blames society for everything that has happened to him, for society has taken their house, their education, their dignity... but apparently not their gun? OwO" I hadn't figured that one quite out yet. If I were to come up with it on the spot, I would say some really cocky jerkass in Len's high school would have their dad's gun collection at home and, like the idiot that guy would be, he'd bring one to school to show off. Then, he'd toss it at Len. "Do us a favour and kill yourself, huh?"

Well.

I really hope that kid didn't survive the shooting that happened the next day.

Because society made them suffer, Len decided to give back to the world. His life would have some sort of meaning... even if it wasn't a very happy one.

A murder-suicide; he tried to let Mayu escape with him, escape the miserable world that had brought them nothing but humiliation... And this is their happy ending, the best ending they could have hoped for. Or, it was Len's... but his precious Mayu continued to breathe, and now she's more alone than ever.

Some people can't get their happy ending no matter how hard they try.

* * *

**Number 3: Unnamed Len x Lui one-shot #1**

I have a soft spot for Lui. Oh, you don't know who that is? I'm not surprised... He was an adorable little Vocaloid planned for V3. _Was_, see, because his creators eventually abandoned his project. They both had designs and his sister, Ring, was given one of the most beautiful voicebanks I have heard to this day (despite never being released, Ring is still one of my favourites), but poor Lui never even got a voice. For that reason, many fanfictions that feature him pose little Lui as a mute. Adorable.

Anyway, I was in love with Lui (and therefore devastated when his project was abandoned). I shipped him with our male Kagamine twin and tried my best to write cutesy little fanfictions for them... but because, as you know, I am not very good at being cutesy, I never managed to finish these stories. That is why it is in this post today; it never even earned a name. QwQ Poor Lui, voiceless, nameless... Oh how the world mistreats him. TTwTT

Anyway, this is it, then. Proof that I can sometimes write happy-ish things. Sort of. Maybe.

Oh, let me warn you, this was going to be M-rated, so there is some language in it. w" Because, you know, I'm a horrible person lol.

* * *

I have a problem.

A rather big problem.

A rather big and pretty darn disgusting problem.

You wouldn't understand it, though. You may think you can help me right now, but once you hear what's wrong, you'll turn your back to me and run the other way.

You see... I'm in love with a twelve-year-old boy.

Maybe that doesn't seem so bad since I'm fourteen, but... I... I am also a boy. A healthy, sane teenage boy... who loves a little kid. A little adorable kid. A little adorable kid that makes my heart beat just a bit faster and my palms sweat a little and my di- oh no, please, let's not go there. It's really just a bad idea.

I'm a fourteen-year-old boy. I should like fourteen-year-old girls. Hell, even a pre-teen girl isn't so bad, but no! I... He's a boy. A little boy. An adorable little boy tha- I've already said this.  
It's just... weird. Kind of wrong too, maybe. Mostly just super weird.

And he's sitting just a few feet away from me, watching some show that I just can't pay attention because damnit, he's right there. And he's just freaking beautiful.

He's got this peachy blond hair that's been needing a cut for a while and is always just perfectly messy, this perfectly round face, a little pale but not pasty, and these big round amber-colored eyes. The smallest of noses, the cutest little mouth, and this big smile constantly pasted on no matter what the day brings him.  
He's wearing his favorite shirt, a white button-down that I'm sure he must have found in the girl's section (or maybe it only looks girly on him...), these short mouth-watering shorts that just fit his ass perfectly and- HOLY SHIT I AM A PEDOPHILE. OH MY GOD. I can't believe I just let myself think that.

"Len-kun, are you okay?"

Oh gosh, I can't even look at him now. That's so freaking embarrassing, because he's acting so innocent right now without realizing I was just... I was just thinking about... his ass. Oh gosh, kill me now.

"Y-Your face is all red, nii-chan!" He lets out a nervous laugh and, before I can stop him, reaches out and presses a hand to my forehead. I notice his hands are just a little sweaty. Huh, sweaty hands... Or wait, maybe it's my forehead that's sweaty.

"U-Uh, I'm okay!" I quickly bounce away. "I-I'm fine, I just... You know, maybe you're right, I should go take a rest to m-make sure I'm not catching anything, right? Right. Heehee..." Oh gosh. My awkward laughing is just making this worse. I practically run to my room, shutting the door behind me and collapsing on my bed.

Oh yeah, it's definitely stiff. And all he had to do was touch me once... I'm a fucking pedophile.

I rub my hands against my face, as if I could just wipe the thoughts off. Because I'm in fucking love with a twelve-year-old boy. A fucking twelve-year-old boy. A fucking adorable twelve-year-old... Gah! There I go again!

How long had this been going on?

Ring and Lui have lived with Rin and I since we were twelve, though we've known each other for much, much longer. Our families are really close friends, and when their dad got transferred to America, our parents decided maybe now was the time to accept that promotion they'd both been offered. So off the adults went to America, keeping us kids here. We know how to take care of ourselves, of course - even Lui would be able to live on his own - but it still can get lonely. I was kind of angry with my mum and dad at first for leaving us so readily, but I know they meant well. They would have brought Rin and I if they could.

I've known Lui since he was born, apparently. Ring is just a year older than us, so Mom and Dad would bring Rin and I over for play-dates all the time. As soon as Lui was able to crawl without breaking anything, he joined us.

Though I didn't have these feelings back then, of course.

These feelings... I don't know when they started. Out of nowhere really, I just started noticing things, like the way his eyes really brighten when he's happy, or the way his lower lip sometimes quivers when he's nervous. And then I saw the way he walked, slower than average, always gazing around and taking his time. Even though he was clumsy, he was always so graceful... He still is.

Somehow those lingering gazes became full-fledged blushes and it went from natural observation to some strange and creepy want. Maybe more like a need. I need to have that boy. If he leaves, if his parents somehow come back without warning and try to take him from me, I think I might lose it. I'd blow up and tell them he belongs to me, even though he isn't some doll and technically doesn't belong to anyone. I just can't help it... I'm completely in love with him. As weird as that sounds.

Maybe I really _am_ sick. But I admit it: I'm in love with this kid. I want him so bad, it hurts. Everywhere.

There's a quiet knock at the door and without waiting for an answer, he peeks through. The reason for my sickness himself. Hibiki Lui.

"Len-nii, I have a temperature stick so we can check for a fever!" He waves it proudly, grinning. "I hope you're not sick, but if you are, then I'll take care of you, okay? I promise, I'm a good doctor, I think."

'I think'... How cute.

Lui is a little small for his age. He's always been smaller. I know it's something he's really insecure about, especially since he has to sit in the front row during picture day with all the girls. I don't think it's a bad thing, though. I've always thought it made him cuter. Though I know no boy really _wants_ to look like a shota- This I take from experience.

He gently places the thermometer against my lip, waiting for me to open my mouth. It's cute. The meter pokes my tongue awkwardly, tasting like plastic. I've never been a fan of thermometers.

He waits there, his cheeks a little red from embarrassment as we both wait for the results. He's still wearing those stupid goggles on his head, the extra pair Gumi gave him that he loves so much... It's just plain silly if you ask me, but if he wants to wear them, well, they don't look _that_ bad...  
Better than they look on Gumi, at least.

"L-Len-nii, um..." He has this habit of folding in on himself when he's embarrassed, as if trying to turn himself into some little ball. "It's done, I think..."  
I let him pull it out of my mouth and wait for the verdict. "Huh," he murmurs. "You're normal. Well, that's good." And then he grins at me, this simple grin that lights up his whole face and makes my heart move up to my throat.

"Y-Yeah, um... Thanks for checking on me... You know, just in case..." Oh gosh, I'm turning things awkward. I was expecting him to leave then but he stays, smiling nervously.

"H-Hey, Len-nii... Do you have a girlfriend?" He blushes a dark red but keeps his gaze on mine, smiling sheepishly.

Wh-What's he asking _me _for? "Um, no... Not really..."

* * *

**And that's all you get. :P**

I hope nobody got too invested into that story, because... Well, I guess it was just getting to the good part, wasn't it?

So, um.

I really don't have too much to say about this one. :"D Um... It was going to get a little citrus-y, if you know what I mean. That's all there is to it. There's no 'How does it end?' for this one because, like, we all know how it ends. *blushes* Um... yeah.

BUT NOBODY DIED! :D *scratches off bucket list*

* * *

**Number 4: Candy Psychologist**

People who have been with me for a very, _very _long time might remember hearing me mention a Candy Psychologist one-shot several times, inspired by the song of the same name. For like, a _year_, it sat on my profile on the list of "Things I am working on", with no release date in sight. X'D

So, here is what I had... which, really isn't much in hindsight. Oh well.

_From the original A/N, in a time before I started dating my works:_

"I mean, come on. Nobody is supposed to date their shrink. That's just weird."

(This story is so old that not only is it not dated, but it was corrupt too. When I tried to open the file it came up with symbols and weird Russian letters. I had to delete them to make the story comprehensive. XD)

* * *

Meiko sighed, and crumpled a piece of paper. She didn't know why that, of all occupations she could've found herself, she'd decided to become a therapist. A therapist.

She couldn't stand her job. All day, she had to listen to people tell her their life stories, what they hated about their life, the expectations they'd had, the disappointment they felt when they'd failed. And then, they'd stare at her expectantly, as if she had the answers to their problems.

They took in everything she said like she was God. They lapped her few words up like they'd spent days without water.

And she had no idea what she was doing.

What was she doing?

All she'd wanted was to become a journalist. That had been her dream since she was fourteen years old. But she hadn't done anything. After high school, she'd just sat around hoping someone would realize her talent.

But no one did.

Eventually, money started running short, and in panic, she'd decided to create her own business, in a job she assumed would be easy as pie, but would reel in enough money to live.

Fucking therapy.

Well, what was so hard? All she had to do was listen to some people drone on about their lives, while she surfed the web to see if those shoes she had her eyes on went on sale. Right?

But no. They expected her to actually do something about their problems!

How pathetic.

Meiko couldn't understand why some people actually wanted to become therapists. Why there were actual universities for therapists to learn.

…She really should have gone to one of those damn universities.

But no matter what, she knew she was stuck with what she had.

At age 23, she was an unsuccessful woman leading an unsuccessful business.

She groaned, letting her forehead hit the desk with a bang, clutching the crumpled paper even harder in her fist. And then, suddenly, she had an idea. She released her grip on the paper, and simply stared at it for a moment, the gears turning inside her head.

Then, she began to press on it, tying to straighten it out as best as she could, like one would iron clothes. But the creases remained in the damaged lined paper.

She began to use her writing talents to come up with an analogy. 'A person is like a piece of paper.' She thought, grabbing another sheet from under her desk.

'Every painful moment is remembered forever. Every time a human being upset, angry, lonely, deceived, regret, etc., it's like…' she clutched the page in her fist, 'crumpling a piece of paper. And as much as one can try to straighten it out again…' she repeated the process from before, pressing on the sheet, trying to fix it. 'The creases never really go away, do they?'

Meiko smiled to herself in satisfaction. Although she was sure many people before her had used that analogy, had they ever used it in a therapy session? (Probably.)

Maybe she didn't need to give out real advice, advice that would most likely turn out to be useless. Maybe all she had to do was hand them useless analogies instead, and let them twist it however they wanted, to suit it to their own needs.

Just maybe, that would work.

Meiko turned on the computer screen in front of her, and shook the mouse impatiently as it flared to life. She quickly entered in her password, then waited as the computer booted.

Then, she clicked the icon for Microsoft Excel, and opened a file titled 'Tuesday, January 17th'.

She scrolled down the page filled with unbooked times until she reached 2:30pm. Beside the time was the name 'Miki Kureno'. It was 2:28pm now. She had two minutes.

During which she cleaned the papers off the floor, wiped off that coffee spill, emptied the paper filled garbage can (she'd been crumpling papers to vent her frustration), and fixed the couch cushions.

Then, the door opened, and in stepped a very tall woman, followed by a younger, shorter girl.

The woman had waist-long pale pink hair that must have taken at least an hour to straighten. She wore a long-sleeved white shirt, and Meiko was impressed to notice the lady's breasts were competition to her own in size. Her black pencil skirt was very business-like, and she wore killer black heels.

The girl cowering behind her looked about 15. Her hair was just as long as the woman's, and just as silky looking, though the color was a darker, redder shade of pink. Her matching pink eyes darted around nervously, and her hands fiddled with the bottom of her simple pale pink dress.

The older woman's cool blue eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Meiko. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm looking for a Meiko Sakine…?"

"At your service!" Meiko said, and immediately winced. 'At your service?!' What was that?!

The woman's eyes narrowed even more (how was that possible?!), and Meiko forced herself to stand straight under the woman's strict, intimidating gaze.

"You are Meiko Sakine, the therapist?" the lady asked, not seeming very pleased.

Meiko swallowed. "Yes mam."

The lady's nose twitched. "You seem awfully young."

"Yes, I am." Meiko nodded, quickly switching from nervous to slightly annoyed. What did being young matter? "Are you Miki Kureno?"

The woman held her stare for a moment, then seemed to give up, and moved aside to better show the girl hiding behind her. "This is my daughter, Miki." She said, then glanced back up at Meiko. "My name is Luka Megurine, but that's Mrs. Megurine to you."

The teenager was Meiko's client? Meiko hadn't had a teenager before. She was suddenly a little nervous about the methods she'd been planning on trying. She was sure they'd work great on a middle-aged woman- but a teenager? A teenager could be smarter than that.

Miki blushed at all the attention, and tried to hide her face. Meiko noticed Luka scowling, but didn't say anything.

"I'll be back in an hour." Luka said. "I'm expecting good results."

"Yes, Mrs. Megurine." Meiko said. "I understand."

But Meiko didn't understand. She didn't have a clue what she was doing. And what good results was Luka expecting? Meiko didn't even know what the problem was! If anything, she figured it was the mother who needed therapy, not the daughter!

Luka nodded curtly. "Very well then." She turned towards her daughter, and both her eyes and voice softened. "I'll be back soon, alright Hun? You be good."

Miki nodded, avoiding eye contact, but Luka seemed satisfied. With another nod of acknowledgement Meiko's way, Mrs. Megurine left.

"…" And Meiko was left with the awkward silence that came with Miki Kureno.

"So… would you…um…" Meiko shook her head. "Just follow me."

Miki suddenly straightened up, her eyes big and wide as if she'd just been slapped. "Oh, um, okay!" she said in a teeny voice, sounding like she was on the brink of tears.

Meiko felt like banging her head against the wall. 'You have got to be kidding me…'

Instead, she showed Miki into the living room/therapy room.

The walls were a simple white, but the floors were made in beautiful maple wood that Meiko loved. In the center, there was a pretty lime green rug, with a long wooden table placed on top. Two green couches with wooden structures sat on either wide of the table, and lime green curtains matching the room's theme covered the windows.

* * *

**And so she tried the stupid paper analogy** and Miki was like "Holy shit you're amazing I am cured" and Meiko was like "WTF, that actually worked?" and Luka is super rich and recommended her to other rich people and Meiko turned into a successful lady even though she had no idea what she was doing.

Basically, she would get a teenager in and be like, "We are all pieces of bread. If you leave us on the counter for too long, we get stale," and patients would be like, "Wow, that's so deep, so I should just get over my self-esteem issues and stop cutting myself? Rad, I totally get it now!"

Until one day a boy comes in. Named Kaito. And he ain't buying that bull. Meiko tells him, "In each hand I have a candy. One represents love, the other represents lies. You can take one of them, but I will be forced to keep the other. So if you choose to take the love, I'll be left with the lies and unhappiness. Or, you can take the lies and let the other person have the love at your expense. Which candy will you pick?"

"Neither. After all, if you have the love without the lies, you won't be able to appreciate the happiness you have. I don't want to leave you with just the lies, but leaving you with the love won't do much good either. So you can have them both; you'll need them to balance each other out. I'm okay with what I already have."

Tch, smartass. But, Meiko is so surprised that he isn't instantly wowed by her metaphors that she starts to accidentally open up a little. Next thing she knows, he's the one listening to _her_ problems.

Eventually, they probably fall in love. Maybe? I dunno. But, we can't forget that Kaito's in therapy for a reason. He has his own demons to face, and Meiko isn't sure if she can help... WHAT WILL HAPPEN?!

I don't know. =w= Heh~ I never planned that far ahead!

I still like the idea, though. Maybe I'll end up finishing it, someday... It's kinda cute. Heh~

* * *

**December 12th, 2016; 7:51 AM**

So! I'd planned on including more, but this has gotten pretty long already without me realizing, huh?

Because these don't take as long to make as writing my own chapters from scratch do, I might keep doing this so you kids can actually get a Naty17 update once in a while. XD That is, if you enjoyed this.

I've been in the biz for nearly six years now - I have _**mountains**_ of abandoned drafts. So, if you enjoyed reading some of this, please let me know! I'd be more than happy to share some more of them!

...Not to mention, I'm pretty sure I have some lemons hidden somewhere... w And there's only one way I'll ever post them on this account: Hiding within some unfinished drafts. *points up to that Lui x Len one-shot* That's right, there are a few of those that actually got to the nasty before I abandoned them. ;)

So, leave me a comment! Tell me what you loved, tell me what you hated! Point out that the only reason these stories didn't succeed is because they aren't Rin x Len! (Which btw, is false - I have some Rin x Len drafts as well. :P You'll just have to wait and see~!)

If this is well-received and people want more, I might even be able to update before the New Year's. ;)

**~Naty17**

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!**


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